Held every morning of the incredibly hung over world celebrations patrons would all imagine a black pen and have parade! At the end of the daily parade every single individual would ignite their pen in protest to the material that they could not understand in their current condition. Each burning pen would be tossed without discretion towards an already burning pile of books strategically placed in front of a mock-up library from a decayed memory more than a lifetime ago. A decayed memory that took a lifetime to decay! Deformed and unsaturated of any mental inhabitants our brain-dead disciples were just about ripe in the eye of the fallen ones.
Just below the westward hills much of the population can see the chemical colour rainbow of smut filled drunk on magic celebrations! A heavy cloud of intoxication threatens the future hosts of some new ever evolving disease creeping in. A disease one could almost call stardom’ at the lowest levels of intoxication. The highest levels of intoxication most agree to be down to the lowest of evils.